The ties that bind
by Marakiri
Summary: A short, contracted storyline of love and adventure. The young Iloeth must do her duty to her people as a daughter of kings, seeking aid from alliances of old. This brings her to Eryn Lasgalen, where she is drawn into an unlikely bond. Non-10th walker, non-slasher, non-girl falls into ME. All recognizable characters belong to Tolkien of course, this is just for fun. IN PROGRESS
1. To seek aid

In the shady Eryn Lasgalen morning, the sound of hooves and horses could be heard drawing near. Expected, they knew the way. The convoy was in great haste, the kind that only war and need could bring. The riders stopped, the scene unfolding before them not one easily dismissed.

_Indeed as beautiful as sung in the bards' tales,_ Iloeth thought. Then she looked ahead with unease to Ereldur, her betrothed, and their eyes met.

It was not a willful union. Yet before the death of her father, king Rotharin of the fortress of Anduron, she had made a promise to him that she would do all that it took to ensure the safety of their people. And now, after his death, she had no choice but to honour that promise by joining her fate to Ereldur, the high lord of the neighboring fortress of Garolin, in a marriage that would seal the alliance between the two cities. For alone men stood no chance once war with Mordor broke. And here they were now, running with the rest of the few that were strong enough and willing to reach the hidden kingdom in search for aid. The orcs were drawing nearer, having already destroyed parts of their land. _It was for the best, we need all the allies we can hope for in times like these_, Iloeth mused, yet her heart was as dark as the times they lived in. She had not known Ereldur long, but could not forget his rashness, indifference and stream of violent outbursts, or the time he drunkenly tried to enter her chambers throwing harsh words when she had locked herself in. Her lips tightened in a thin line at the thought.

Now they stood in front of the great gates of Thranduil, and wonder was all about her, shedding her worries.

"My lady Iloeth, please follow me," she heard someone speak and then noticed an elven guard standing beside her. She had not quite seen elves up close before, for she was young and not much travelled. Needless to say, she was pleasantly surprised and thought of the songs her mother would sing to her about elves and their kin when she'd been a babe.

They followed through the high corridors to king Thranduil's halls. He was neither glad, nor an exceedingly courteous host, but he made sure they had all they needed for their stay before the negociations. An indefinite, but perhaps short stay, since the Silvan elves were known for not interfering in the problems of the world beyond their borders.

That night, after all were settled in, she went for a walk outside under the stars. The forest seemed alive. Of course it _was_ alive, but it seemed to her that it was breathing a soft, heavy breath all over the land, as one single consciousness. Thoughts of home and her father took her, and she sank into them.

"Rather unnerving place, is it not?", she suddenly heard Ereldur say. He had approached her, and she felt the night grow even colder. He had been drinking, she could feel it in his breath.

"I do not know," she uttered glumly, hoping she would be left to her own.

"Ah, the steel maiden! It does not suit you to be so grim, my dear," he said as he grabbed her by her shoulders, turning her to face him. She saw that the handsomeness of his face could not hide his character. "I _need_ your father's men, and his horses, and your people _need_ my grains and fortress. You and I will just have to make do with each other." He smirked unkindly. She pulled herself away, at which he grabbed her by the arm, all too tight and all too sudden.

"My lord, I wish to be alone for now, pray let us talk on the 'morrow." The conversation was not one she was ready to have with a drunken man, moreover he was hurting her.

"On the 'morrow," he said, gripping even harder "You will be in a better mood," then loosened his grip of her and walked away.

She felt relieved at being left alone. Not even the distress of being alone in a foreign land or thoughts of the pain of her people could hinder it. Then she started to weep. Steadily, quietly.

"I see it is not a good time, but an even worse one to be out for long. The night will be very cold soon," she heard someone utter not far away, and then a stir, and felt a presence. She quickly wiped her eyes and turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows of the trees.

"Solace comes with a price I suppose," she said looking not towards him, but towards the scenery ahead. The next moment she realized she did not want to be alone.

"Forgive me for intruding, I will be on my way," the visitor said as he continued to pass by her. His voice was soft as the whistling of wind through the leaves.

"Which way are you going?", she asked but then bit her lip at the words that came out all too soon.

The stranger now turned to face her.

"I've returned from scouting the eastern borders of our kingdom, and this breezy air is fit for yet another night stroll." As he spoke she could see him better. He was taller than most men, as all elves are, clad in the light armour of the guard. She could determine a silvery head of long flowing hair and now his features looked familiar. She'd seen him earlier at her arrival. The son of king Thranduil. _The prince._ Yet his presence was more comfortable than it was royal.

Iloeth hesitated but he went on obligingly. "Join me if you wish, it will do good to know your surroundings while you are here." He spoke softly, his piercing grey eyes never leaving her - a fact which, to Iloeth's own surprise, did not deter her. There was an unusual calm about him which emanated peace and tranquillity. _Why not._ She joined him and they walked farther through the forest. She'd heard the other guards calling him Legolas. She told him her own name, and all that drove her here, although she had a feeling he was well aware. Understandably, she kept her personal woes to herself.

"Your journey was too long, and you seem to have no easier time of it after it has ended." She looked at him curiously and wondered how much he'd seen and heard earlier. It was a strange feeling, to look right into those eyes she'd scarcely seen the likes of before, seeminly burrowing deep into her thoughts.

"Come, I'll show you a place," he finally said in the friendliest manner one could expect, as he motioned her to follow. They walked through the forest until they came in front of a tall beech tree - not just any tree: a huge trunk with stair-like hollows, large enough for one to climb comfortably. Iloeth felt her jaw drop in surprise. Her lands were mostly hilly and barren, similar to the fields of the Rohirrim, and such trees were seldom to be seen.

"It must be centuries old!" The elf smiled at her, nodding.

"I remember it being but a sapling." Seeing her mouth agape in wonder, he could not help a chuckle and the girl felt her spirits lift at the bright sound. The child inside her thought that if all elves were this charming, she would very much like it here. Eyeing the prince, she could not help but admire his frame and slight aura of light that seemed to envelop him in the night. He gently lead her up and soon they were at the top through the crown of the tree. She marvelled at the stars, brighter than she'd ever seen them in her own land.

"Beautiful, thank you for this!", she found herself uttering and the calmness of everything swept over her. She could not help but smile brilliantly at him. Her raven dark tresses became entangled in the wind, and her paleness was all the more visible against the darkness. She found his eyes and her cheeks flustered at the realization that he'd been looking at her, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. Then he started to speak. Iloeth did not understand the words, but knew it was Sindarin, his own Elvish tongue. For some strange reason she felt her knees weaken at the sound of his words. Now she was thankful for the darkness.

"Your language is indeed beautiful," she stammered. "What does it mean?"

"I only said..." but before he could finish, he sensed her as she lost her stance along the branches. Her equillibrium was lost and even though the elf quickly reached for her and she clutched at him, he was thrown off guard, and a second was all it took before they both fell through the branches.

* * *

Iloeth opened her eyes and the pain soon followed. All of her body ached. They were on the ground. He'd fallen first, she judged, as she realized she was tangled against him. A thin stream of red crept from his lips. _Oh no, no, this cannot happen! _She thought how and where to run to ask for help. But to leave him here? Looking at him, she cleared the blood from his lip just as he opened his eyes. She sighed with a mixture of relief and worry.

"I..." she tried an apology, but his intent stare stopped her as he raised himself up. They both looked at each other for a while, as if trying to see if everything was still in place.

"Well, that was certainly not part of the tour, my lady," he said with an apologetic smirk. Then his stare turned into a worried one. "Are you well?" The happening reminded him of childhood wanderings up ancient trees. But by the nature of his race his body could bear such accidents, whereas humans were far more fragile, he knew. And the last thing he wanted was to have his guest throttled because of him.

"Y...yes", she smiled back, then suddenly gasping. "But I...I think I've hurt my leg, though." She was limping.

Legolas frowned. "I will take you to the healers."

He seemed to be able bodied and tried to sustain her but thought better of it, instead raising her up in his arms before she could protest. Iloeth felt another bout of flustering as she was holsted up, his arms wrapped around her figure. He was only being gallant but she could not help the feeling. The warmth of his closeness was not something she'd ever felt before and she found herself closing her eyes, leaning her head against his chest. What was this warm feeling of familiarity?

* * *

That night found her lacking sleep. The elf had taken her to the healers quarters and stood by her until her wound was tended to. Later he left her in front of the door to her bedchamber. She barely knew him, yet now her head was full of details of that one encounter. _And now you have a limp to remember it by._ She smiled at herself, then panicked and tried to drive away the feelings she was acknowledging, strange and new.

When the morning came, it found her staring at the ceiling. As days passed, they continued their strolls and chance meetings. They usually somehow ran into each other, and days turned into weeks as it became clearer and clearer that her stay in this kingdom would be longer than intended. The armies were rallying to and fro, far away. Her people she hoped would last until aid came. And it felt as if she found a friend in the prince, but hid even from herself the rest she'd felt. He'd shown himself kind and helpful, and she did her best to return the same.

One night, during the Mereth-en-Gilith, Iloeth saw dark thoughts taking hold of her again, but felt a gaze upon her. She looked about and saw him there, speaking to king Thranduil. Their eyes met for a brief moment and her heart leaped. She smiled in the friendliest manner she could, as she knew that if he'd ask her about her gloom she could not hide the reasons well from him. She could hardly hide much from him, thus lately she'd lessen her walks so as to not spend so much time with the elf. Something was happening inside her. On the other side of the feast hall, Ereldur drank his turn more than he should have, as was the norm for him. _Oh not again. _She did not wish to see him in one of his states and decided to retreat. It was not long before she felt steps behind her.

"My lady, do not be so hasty!" Ereldur reached at her and grabbed both her arms, pulling her to him and shaking her.

"We have catching up to do." She pulled away but could not manage to outpower him. Ereldur brought his face close into hers, grinding his words into her ear.

"You should be back there, we are one, you and I. It does not trouble me that you are not willing, I am no fool. I do not care about your person more than you do about mine, but you must show respect to your future lord in front of our allies. That includes being next to me on nights like these." His nostrils flared as he stared at her, his hand gripping her chin.

"It'd be hard to, with the smell of beverage so pungent." She felt flustered and now anger took over her. She was a king's daughter not a lowly thrall, and was beginning to see the rest of her days played out within the cage she willingly led herself into. Her words made him chuckle a drunken chuckle, and he let her go."The warnings will soon be over, Iloeth, and then you will see."

She did not wonder much of what that meant. Watching him depart, she felt the tears of anger in her eyes and turned, only to stumble into the prince.

"I wanted to talk to you - " then stopped as he noticed the shining stream on her face. He tightened his jaw."You cry. Again." He raised an eyebrow. "Is it some new custom among men?", he asked in a soft yet firm voice, wanting to lighten the mood. But Iloeth was far from it, and taking this as a slight, she ushered behind him to speedily be out of sight. He found himself going after her.

"Iloeth, I mean no ill will!" she heard his voice cry out behind her, and could not help but turn around.

"Then pray leave me be!", she threw at him, a choked string of words. He was a bit taken aback by her tone, but saw what lay beyond it. And he could not draw himself to leave her like this. Truth be told, he'd sensed her woes and in spite of himself was starting to be more attached to this human than he'd thought possible. He'd often find himself lingering on her features as they spoke, and her laughter brought him joy he had not felt in centuries. He liked having her close, hearing her voice and in spite of his usual restrained manner, he found it difficult to keep clear of her.

"There must be another way, other than him," he uttered in a low voice, walking closer to her side. Hearing his words, she glanced at him and felt much surprise and shame that he'd know what she was going through. Why, she could not know. Then the worry in his eyes made her words come out chokedly, brokenly. She felt a sudden need to bury herself into him. She pressed on, determined to shun this.

"I did not ask for advice, or help." He'd drawn close to her and in a moment turned her around by her arm, looking her straight in the eye. Despite her proud demeanor, he saw pain and loneliness in those beautiful brown eyes. She felt his gaze burning her, a strange look she'd seen little of, and in strange moments: the moments with him that had made her as weak in the knees as a witless child - for there had been such moments, although she did her best to forget them. Which is why she made no protest when he cupped her face in his hands. Iloeth shivered at his touch, feeling as if it coursed through her in waves.

"In the world of men you've been dealt an ill hand, but you are strong, and you are brave. You do not deserve this, and he does not deserve you," he said closing his eyes as his last words were almost whispered. He had tried his best but his will abandoned him and before she could reply she felt the warmth of his lips against her own. Using her utmost willpower, she pulled herself from him and went one step back, unbelieving at what had just happened. He was slightly panting and the look he gave her betrayed an apology but also worry and need, which scared her to no end.

"Do not...I do not feel the same," she managed, breaking their gaze. He said nothing and went another step back.

"Forgive me." Then remembering himself said "Please Iloeth, think about what I said."

"I must go," and she could barely gather herself to walk away, sparing no glance back. She was set on keeping him away from then on, it was for the best. For both of them.


	2. The truth unhindered

Pacing his throne room, Thranduil was drenched in thought. The king knew his son well, and did not look gladly upon his friendship and growing fondness of the steward's betrothed. Along the weeks that the human host had been in his kingdom, apart from his usual duties, his son had often sought and spent time with the woman, all too much as far as Thranduil was concerned. He did not want to risk complicating an already frail alliance with the humans of these kingdoms. All would need to be united before the evil that was stirring. Thus a few days passed before he summoned his son.

"Tomorrow at dawn, you are to take whatever number of guards you need and take lady Iloeth away to our hidden fortress within Eryn Lasgalen for safety. Come straight back, you are needed here."

Legolas felt a stab in his chest and could not reply for a few moments. Then swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke, trying to keep his voice level.

"Our kingdom roads are anything but safe at the moment, you know this _Adar_! The journey would be perilous since goblins started coming down through the mountains lately, attacking and ambushing travelers at random."

The king was unfazed. "As I also _know_ that the fortress of Aegas'Annan is the safest place to be, at the moment. I trust there will be no hardship for you to pass through, and I know you will see through to the task, afterall you are my best man at arms."

"She is safer here," he answered coldly, stressing every word through gritted teeth. Why did the thought of her leaving do this to him? His father had taken notice of his feelings even before he did. Legolas sighed inwardly at having been so careless.

'She is safer away from _you_. Will you question me now? Does what I say lack reason, _ion-nín_?"

Legolas had grown to know his father, surely. Thousands of years had made Thranduil as objective and unrelenting as the wind. He said nothing, but as he paced away down the vast halls, he felt that he had only himself to blame for this turn of events.

* * *

Her thoughts were clouded and she could not bring herself to sleep. Her lips still burned as she touched them. Iloeth closed her eyes, and she would replay the short lived kiss which now filled her with a surge of feelings she never knew she could have. She heard a steady knock on the door of her bedchamber, and her heart rushed as she opened it and saw the prince standing before her. His stiff countenance, his pale and troubled expression, his eyes staring as if looking through her could mean nothing good. Her embarrassment at the events of earlier faded in front of the worry she now felt.

He stared at her strangely for a brief second before speaking. "Tomorrow I'm to take you to our hidden fortress within Eryn Lasgalen,"he said with no introduction, and turned to leave.

"Legolas..." she whispered faintly, still taking in his words. He then stopped, his head bowed, his back still turned to her.

"Why?..."

Nothing.

She pressed on. "Do you want to...will you stay, _mellon nîn_? For a while?" Silence.

It felt as if the wind was the only living breath in those halls. She noticed him clenching both his fists along his body, yet he would not turn to look at her. What had passed?

"Please rest and be ready. We leave at dawn." And with these words he walked away, thinking this was going to be the hardest task he'd ever had.

Left alone, Iloeth turned around as if smitten. She looked through her room and suddenly felt despair take over. Should she go after him, press the details out of him? Was Ereldur behind this? It would have made no difference to her where they turned to before. But now? _Now, what? _she thought mockingly at herself. _Iloeth, do not be a fool. Remember yourself. Your duty._ And she kept repeating these last words to herself, but could not help closing her eyes and touching her lips in memory.

A few long hours had passed. Iloeth could take no more, she went through the elven Halls, searching for any sign of him, but found no one. Returning to her quarters, she let herself fall under the canopy exhausted. Would she have to be thrown to and fro all of her life? She missed the fields of her childhood, the careless whispers of the wind through her hair. She chided herself. _The first task once this is over will be to get yourself a spine, Iloeth._ A strange feeling. For a reason unbeknownst to her, she rose from her bed and rushed to the door. As she opened it Iloeth saw her elf, a look of utter defeat marring his features.

"I could not stay away," he murmured. Looking him in the eye, she pushed herself against the door to open it wider, allowing him to enter.

"Sit. Would you like a cup of limpë?", she asked, trying to sound unaffected. But she was trembling, feeling his presence as tension rose within her. He did not sit, but slowly paced through the room, head down, hands crossed behind his back. Iloeth swallowed her words a few times before she could speak.

"Will I see you again?", she swiftly uttered, fearing her voice would fail her. The realization had just dawned on her.

"The intention is not to." The finality of the words made her head swoon. He now turned to face her, keeping some distance between them. His piercing stare she had gotten used to, but his stiff, uneasy counter and the strange look he gave her now were an altogether new sight. A long pause followed, when she realized they were in the dark. She lit a candle, its flame brushing their figures with light in slow caresses.

"It is my fault," he went on after a while. "I've acted foolish around you. Even coming here now was foolish. I must leave. Forgive me."

He turned to pace to the door but now she went after him, wrapping her arms around his neck; she felt a swarm of feelings she'd kept down erupting to the surface, ruling over her. The elf could not let himself move further with her so close into him. He felt the familiar pangs of longing as he stared at her, and saw that she felt the same.

"Please," she said barely audible in the quiet of the night. Her eyes, now wide open in a plea, her parted lips, the subtle heaving of her chest as she breathed against him, they all tested his most resolute self-control. He took hold of both her wrists in a failed attempt to pull out of her embrace, to stop her from gripping him tighter, from drawing herself closer into him.

"Iloeth...do you want this to worsen? We both know there are higher matters at stake than what we think we found within each other."

All was out in the open. His expression was grave and pained, yet his gaze did not leave her and his face drew closer to hers. He closed his eyes as he felt her small hand caress his face, sliding up to barely touch the tip of his sensitive ear. All her denial forgotten, Iloeth brushed her lips with his, finally tasting, enjoying their warmth. She felt ablaze. This time, she did not turn away.

* * *

It was late into the night, or better said in the small hours of the morning when sleep finally took hold of them. They had not spoken much, there had been no need. Now, awake and staring at the dwindling flame, Legolas replayed the passionate moments of earlier in his head...those beautifully exhausting moments. The warmth of her made him shiver even now as he watched over her figure, bent into him, holding him as if to prevent him from leaving her side. Not that he could have, even if he could convince himself to. Her disheveled beauty that had left him gasping for air, her pale shoulder, bare and fine, her soft lips, reddened by his kisses, her hair, enveloping her... _By the Valar, I am completely taken with you, little one _he thought to himself as he brushed his hand over her sleeping form possessively. Now all was clear. Why he'd sought her so often, why he wanted to see her well, why her closeness had made him feel unusually tense lately. One supposes it was only the natural way of things, for love comes irrespective of time, space or individual fates of the souls it unites. She was unaware of their elvish customs. She did not know what this would mean for him. He willingly bonded himself to her and would not have another. He mused on how to revealed this to her without frightening her. He would never presume to impose anything onto her if she chose otherwise, but he knew it was meant to be this way for him.

Not before long it would be time to depart, following the crass orders of his father. Nothing had ever caused him to question or disobey Thranduil, father and king. It had never occurred to him, even when trying to be objective - but for now... Yet could he be so selfish? His innate sense of justice seemed to prevail. He was not the one alone, away from his home, away from his people. It might be for the best. But now he felt he could not part from her either. _There must be a way_. He held her even tighter and she stirred, half opening her eyes, searching for his. She had never felt anything akin to what awoke in her when looking him straight in the eye.

"You are worried," she said, his concern mirroring her own.

"Yes." She removed a stray strand of golden hair from his face and placed a warm lingering kiss on his lips. Before they knew it their kiss became feverish and desperate. He tilted her head gently but firmly, trailing his kiss down to her neck, wringing a soft moan which enticed him to no end. Her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled him closer to her, reveling in the scent of his skin. He wanted to right any wrongs, he wanted to undo what was done, or to take her away, all contradicting and foolish thoughts. He'd forgotten what this was like, or had he even felt anything akin to it before? This sense of one's entire being bursting with care and want for the other. An extension of one, a bond forming stubbornly against everything, that would not break no matter what. As they grudgingly parted, they stood both unknowing of what their now entangled fates would be or what this would lead to.

"Iloeth, I am yours. Are you mine?," he whispered the words breathlessly, grey pools melting into earthy brown.

Without a second thought, she answered an "Always" through kisses which made his heart thunder out of his chest. They lay in silence for a while longer, dreading the coming day and the separation it meant.

"I will see you down," he said squeezing her for one last time before going to make the final preparations for their departure.

Through the wide halls, heading for his father's throne, he tried to think. Was this desperation? It appears it was not reserved only to children of men afterall.

* * *

"Legolas." The son bowed shortly to his father, now in the midst of the soldiers who would accompany the gathering on the journey. When Thranduil looked at him Legolas could feel his gaze scouting through his entire being. He thought he saw the curling of his father's lip in controlled distaste. Then he heard it. Thranduil's voice in his head.

"_What you've done is a most terrible slight I would not have thought you capable of. I tried to prevent it from getting this far, now I must take bolder measures."_ Thranduil saw his son grow pale. He was indeed disappointed, albeit not surprised. Then, uttering words so that everyone could hear, he said - in what Legolas perceived to be his most sardonic tone that was lost on the others:

"My son, you look _tired."_ His words were almost hissed, and hit Legolas like a bludgeoning axe. Not without noticing this, the king went on.

"Captain Sonruil will take your stead in escorting the lady Iloeth to her destination. I need you to rest, for you will command the hunters through our western borders two days hence, where I have word that those wretched giant spiders have come farther into our land."

"_Adar.._." Legolas felt lost, and saw the grinning faces of fate rushing to repay the deeds of the night before. And then he felt anger pouring through him. It took all his elven restraint not to burst and confront his father's cruel machinations, which he realized would be an even more ill turn to an already gruesome situation. So he said nothing and removed himself from the king's sight, embroidered in thoughts dark and thick as the mists of Mordor. He had to get to her somehow, he would not leave her now. Could not.

* * *

In front of the tall kingdom gates the gathering was waiting for all to arrive. Ereldur was nowhere to be seen, and one cannot say that Iloeth was unhappy for it. She did not wonder much of him. Her eyes were seeking one that had not come. _Soon..._, she told herself in reassurance, lovingly tracing the lines of that beautiful face with her thoughts. When would she feel him close again? It was as if they had decided together to find a way through this.

When Sonruil arrived giving the start and the horses started to move in slow pace, she wanted to yell "Stop!". In her confusion she rode up to the captain, who informed her of the latest changes, but could not give her the answers that her eyes were pleading for.

_It cannot be._ She felt as if all dimmed around her, eyes full and heavy with tears as she could not help but keep looking back, trying to determine any presence, any figure that might be heading to join them. She had to grip the reins tight so as to not fall off her horse.


	3. We meet again

Days passed as the convoy was approaching its destination. The deep dark greenery of the tall forest was shimmering in the summer light. However, Iloeth could not enjoy its beauty. The path lay ahead, winding, as twisted as her thoughts. She could not help the feeling of betrayal gnawing at her. How could she have hoped a few brief moments of passion would amount to something lasting? In these conditions, no less. But it was not that which hurt the most. She'd sincerely relished his friendship and companionship, albeit she'd nurtured feelings for him. Perhaps if she had managed to control herself he would not have run away. Did he? Was it all false? He'd given no heed of any change that could have prevented him from coming with. Then a thought pierced her. The _prince._ Of course...she had probably been another fawn in his elvish gardens to hunt. Anyone watching Iloeth at this moment would have thought twice before engaging her. Angry, she felt the betrayal again followed by nausea at the thought of how willingly she'd given herself to him. This must be her payment for being unfaithful to her betrothed, and Ereldur swiftly appeared on the canvas of her thoughts before she brushed the thought away. She felt nothing and could feel nothing even if he'd been a man of nobler mind and deed. But above all, she felt immensely foolish. Just then the signal was given to stop and raise camp. One more day and they'd reach the destination, her temporary prison, even farther away from her kin into this strange land.

The next day they set early and by sunset they were at the gates of the Elvish fortress of Aegas'Annan, deep within Eryn Lasgalen. It was unknown to most but for the elves who dwelt in Mirkwood. It was grimmer than the Elvenking's halls, taller and more guarded. It had stood for ages, serving as a meeting point and fortress during times of war. _War..._she thought of her lands, of which no news had come her way. Days passed and turned into weeks. She would practise her skill with bow and dagger, for she'd always been keen on weaponry since childhood. Helping with various tasks helped to keep one's mind busy, though the nights were cold and bitter. Many a time she'd fallen asleep to the sound of her own weeping, though the elves were courteous and she'd made acquaintances of them. Many wondered at her stern yet beautiful face and the grim air about her which seemed to take her beyond the present. Yet they did not ask, for elves are a gentle folk in matters of the soul. They sang to her and invited her to their gatherings in the evenings, and elvish singing has a way of lifting one's mood whether one wants it or not. These moments of respite helped her but did not erase her memories nor her feelings which remained.

One night, a messenger was come. War had broken out in her lands and hosts of orcs and goblins were advancing. Ereldur and his men would go meet them in battle, along with a host of elves. All that were in the fortress and able to fight would need to return to fill the ranks.

"We also must go back, then?", she asked, her voice stuck in her throat.

"By the king's command, my lady," the messenger replied. "These parts are nearest to the edge of the kingdom, and the enemy is drawing near. We must clear the path, leave only the armed and capable, and return with the rest." They'd been in Aegas'Annan for over a month now, and this was ill news, though she was happy for it. She'd grown weary in her loneliness and sadness, seldom eating or drinking, though remembering Ereldur sometimes made her thankful for having left. The other set of thoughts she'd learned to bar and bury, and stop them as they formed.

It was a few days before the host was ready for the journey back. The first days were uneventful and passed quickly. One night, after having set camp she turned to practice with her knives and heard a horn, and much commotion. The horn sound could only mean one thing: they were being attacked. She quickly gathered her knives about her and carefully exited her tent. They were goblins, and they were many. The guards were struggling against them as they could, and had the advantage of discipline but could not go on forever. She ducked before one foe and threw herself at him with her daggers. In her despair to not end up a wretched shell in the mud of battle, she looked fierce and wild, with her dark hair woven in a heavy braid, and black goblin blood now splattered over her tunic. _Not now, not here._ Not by goblin sword would she go.

An ambusher drew close behind her, and just as she turned she would not have been fast enough to block his sword - if it hadn't been for the arrow which now pierced his skull. The goblin fell before her, and turning she saw that reinforcements had come. And her heart sank to her feet as she looked upon the sender of the arrow, who was now too busy fighting to return her glance. There was no time for being stricken, for they were in the midst of danger.

Eventually, after much bloodshed, thankfully most of it on the goblin side, the fight was at an end. There was bustle and hurry in taking care of the wounded, for they could not linger here long. Iloeth helped best she could, taking special care to avoid Legolas during her tasks. He was the one who'd saved her from possible doom, but she dreaded to see him. Wherever he went, she went the opposite way.

Legolas noticed this, surely, and was at a loss. One could even describe his counter as wretched, judging by the way he looked to where she walked and unsuccessfully tried to get closer to her. Yet eventually he always abandoned the resolution and saw to his own. Their eyes met a few times, each saluting the other politely yet briskly, as if to prevent their eyes from revealing the truth to everyone. That she was angry with him. That they'd been lovers. That he wanted to hold her again.

One evening, the company set new camp and quickly set out the fires as darkness was helpful to avoid more unwanted visitors. That night, Iloeth prefered the starry night to the closed tent, and perched herself onto a mossy boulder for she could not sleep. Staring at the stars, humming a recently learned Elvish tune, she tried not to think of the one elf who'd taken over most of her thoughts. She liked this folk and their ways...

"Why are you come?" she suddenly asked in a low tone, her thoughts interrupted. Legolas had paced towards where she stood and was now standing some distance beside her. He had to speak to her, he thought, to let her know she was all that kept him going since she'd left. To tell her how he rode his company without stopping for two whole days to get to them in time. How he worried for her, how he wanted her. She could not determine his expression, but his closeness made her uncomfortable.

"Iloeth..." he said in a choked voice, as if uttering her name would make her disappear. He could feel her frosty counter and was dismayed. He had given no word for so long, she surely loathed him. He'd seen the look in her eyes before and every time his insides wrenched. Notwithstanding, he swallowed and spoke.

"We marched along the west, hunting the foul giant ones plaguing the realm. And ever since goblins have grown bolder and infiltrated the area, most of the guard has been patrolling the kingdom. We came as soon as we received news of their advance."

"Most noble of you, _my lord_," she remarked flatly. He lowered his head in defeat. After so long, how could she take anything he'd say but for a cheap excuse?

"Do not call me that," he uttered darkly.

"But you are, are you not?! The prince of this woodland realm, highborne and valiant. Nobody could think anything less."

"Except for you, since you mock me so," he continued sadly. He was willing to take her scorn, if it would help be around her and somehow mend this. He realized how the eve of their departure must have looked like to her, and felt this was a harder battle than the one they've just been through. This was not the kind of combat he had experience in. A long pause followed, which Iloeth interrupted, much to his relief.

"Thank you. For your help. It would have been the end of me." She tried to sound as formal as possible, as she did feel a sense of gratefulness to the one who prevented her from leaving this world, in spite of her current aversion towards him.

_Ah, one step into the right direction,_ he thought.

"I hoped I'd find you unharmed," he murmured turning to face her. She did not look at him. How much she wanted him closer, how she longed for him now! She had lost hope of seeing the elf again, let alone have him appear as suddenly as he'd vanished from her life. Now she saw that her feelings for him were still blooming, having never withered at all, although she tried to choke them out. All the work she'd put into forgetting had been for naught. She slapped herself mentally. Looking at him now, her eyes having gotten used to the darkness, she had to admit he looked rather...saddened? Was this a ploy to get her back into his bed? Her look lingered, taking pleasure in his presence, which she was quick to admonish herself for. Her hurt was stronger and it stung. Why could he not leave her be? There were surely other _elleth_ he could make use of, no doubt. If for his status if nothing else. And she was to be wed. What had they both been thinking? _Nothing, it seems,_ she charred herself. And if there would have been another reason for his leaving her, would he not have told her so now, instead of this meek part he was playing?'

Seeing his beloved drenched in thoughts but not knowing their nature, Legolas wanted to comfort her. He decided direct honesty was the best approach.

"I've missed you so much, _pen tithen_," he softly continued and silence met his words as he saw her wince imperceptibly. Making one small step to lessen the distance between them, he went on.

"Iloeth, I must tell you something which I have not had the time to say before. The night we - " But then she raised her hand, signalling him to say no more and come no closer. The foolishness she'd indulged in _that night_ with him was not something she'd want to be reminded of, especially not by him.

"Good night, prince Legolas," muttered Iloeth as impassively as she could, though her head swirled at his words. Pacing away quickly as she felt her determination falter, she never glanced his way. She would not give in to these games.

The elf cringed and was despaired at Iloeth cutting him off so curtly after being apart for so long. Was she upset with him or had she moved on already? Was there no bond between them afterall? Then why did he sense it so clear and strong when he was around her? He wanted to know, at least not to pursue her anymore, to save them both more tense and painful moments. Yet all he wanted was to melt into her and never let her go again, for he was hers. Thus came the overwhelming urge to stop Iloeth in her tracks, to make her face him and show her what he could not find the words to say... but then thought better of it. _This is not the time_, he told himself, now alone in the night. He watched as her figure disappeared among the tents. By morning they would be riding again and he hoped no more perils would befall them.


	4. The journey back

The company took off the following day, leaving no sign as to their presence in the area the night before. Legolas had taken the lead from captain Sonruil upon his arrival and gave the start. They would be riding for another few days before they would reach the Elven Halls of his father. _His father..._maybe he had tried to protect him, in his own way. The elf could not help but glance to where Iloeth rode from time to time, her face a blank, all too pale mask.

They took a longer yet safer path, or so they thought. When the time came a makeshift camp was set up, akin to the previous one. The wounded from the recent battle could not fare as the able could, thus presenting the need to stop for rest more often. Iloeth helped, albeit the healing skills she was taught in her land could not match those of the elves. She was learning. It helped to keep her mind - and eyes - off a certain elf she was trying her very best to avoid. Needless to say, it was not a very successful endeavor. She oft caught herself stealing glances to where he stood whenever she thought him busy. Her determination to forget what had been between them was still present, yet her curiosity got the best of her. She had never seen the commander before, only the prince, the friend, the lover...She blushed at herself as she was sharpening her daggers - who knew how soon the need to use them again would present itself.

Perched on a fallen tree trunk away from the clearing they camped in, she could now observe him freely. Iloeth saw how different he was compared to the way she had known him around his home. The young elf making way to the warrior, bringing forth the leader. Then she felt terribly silly and disappointed at herself for offering him so much of her thought space. _Oh but you have already done much worse than that_, she thought bitterly.

Lost in her thoughts again, she startled when she heard someone speaking to her.

"What was that?" she asked but her brow furrowed when she saw her interlocutor._ Not again, why must he plague me so?  
_

"I said you do have great skill with the dagger. I never knew." He glanced at her, admiration in his expression. Iloeth stared at the elf now kneeling beside her, clad in his light riding armor. He took one of her daggers and was now inspecting the intricate carvings on its handle, turning it in his hand a few times.

"Thank you," she offered, tightening her lips. She was not about to make any conversation, and was quite vexed with herself for not hearing him approach. _Elves._ She decided she found something she did not like about them afterall. Legolas noticed she tried her best to not look at him, but decided to press on.

"They will ride to war soon when we get back. The ones you came with. Your people...Ereldur. What will you do?"

_Get as far away from you as possible, that much is certain,_ then loudly she added "I will join my soon-to-be husband on an early honeymoon of orc hunting. More questions?"

The elf frowned. She was seldom as fiery, except for a few dear moments that were still etched in his memory. At the same time her decision did not sit good with him. A danger loomed over her and he felt powerless to stop it. Worst of all, he felt her resentment, thinking she considered him no better than Ereldur.

"Your daggers will aid you well, then", he continued, trying to maintain a calm air about him. "How fare you with long distance arms?"

It was her turn to frown. Was he actually asking her this? To what purpose? She wanted to mention the lack of concern that should cause him but bit her tongue. Something about Legolas now made her unable to unleash her bile as much as she'd wished.

"What kind of arms is it you speak of?" _So be it, the sooner he has his answers the faster I will be left alone._

"The bow, for instance. Do you know your way?"

"No." _Where is this leading to, elf?_

Legolas continued, unabashed by her stern looks and short-mouthed answers.

"You ought to learn. Foes are easier to run down from a distance. At close range one can kill quite a few but is soon overpowered."

Iloeth hated the way he spoke as if he knew all that there was to know about war. She hated his gleaming armor, the way the light brushed his features, his soft voice as he spoke, his blue-grey stare. She hated the memory of his scent when he was near.

_"Mellon-nin?" _he asked softly, noticing she had buried herself in thought again. He wanted her there, with him. He was keen to help this stubborn child, but her unwillingness made him feel as if he was trying to empty an ocean using his bare hands.

"So we are friends now? I was not aware," she added bitingly and the sound of metal sharpening against whetstone chided along.

The elf flinched imperceptibly. "I seem to remember we were, once. You have done no harm to me. As far as I know and feel, you are still my friend, if nothing else, and I wish to see you well." He had spoken simply and honestly. The fact that he also longed for her in ways she would not hear of, that he'd bonded with her and would have no other - that was a different tale, which he would keep to himself forever, if so she wanted. Yet she was so beautiful, even now, when she was so angry and dismissive of him.

"Well. I am glad, prince," she added mockingly.

Legolas had no wish to play this game.

"Should I be offended by the use of my title?", he added in his usual impassive temper, which now irked Iloeth to no end.

"I would not think so," she paced back. He had managed to make feel petty now. _Wonderfully played._

The elf sighed. "I want to offer you help. It may aid you in battle, wherever... " he felt the words stick in his throat, "...wherever you will go."

"Thank you, but no." _The audacity. _

One must remember that although the lady Iloeth was wise far beyond her years in some respects, she was still a young woman of not more than twenty-and-six. Compared to the experience and patience of elves she was a mere child easily driven by passion, and this to her was a battle in itself.

"You refuse yet you have not even heard what I have to say" the elf insisted mildly, his gaze darkening slightly.

"I suppose you would have me train with bow and arrow. And I suppose you would be the one to teach me. Have you not more pressing matters to attend to, commander?"

Legolas raised himself up and stiffened. His tone cold, his calm unabated.

"I do have plenty to attend to, which is why I would not be your trainer. I would have captain Sonruil teach you. He is one of the best archers in our kingdom, and you would make good use of his knowledge. Should you decide towards it, you may go to him." If distance was what she wanted, then she would have it. But it pained him to see her so cold. He had done her no harm, at least nothing he could have prevented.

Iloeth said nothing and continued to work with her daggers, sighing with relief when he turned to his heel and left her. Truth was, his words made sense. Her weapon skills needed to be more varied. She would train with Sonruil, thus owing nothing to that smug, petulant elf. _Why not try_, she thought. Making up her mind, she rose and paced towards the direction where Sonruil stood.

* * *

The arrow flew over the wooden aiming post. Iloeth groaned in exasperation.

"Worry not, it will be a while before you can properly master the technique," Sonruil added assuredly.

"It might be too long a while, captain" she said grimacing at the lone arrow she had managed to send into the aiming post.

Sonruil smiled. "Again."

* * *

Her fingers hurt after her first training session, but as more followed she had gotten used to the stance and shooting mode. As they stopped during their journey, she would go and practice even without Sonruil. _At least I am a dedicated pupil, if not a bright one, _she thought bemusingly as she released her fingers and let the arrow fly. It did not go over the aim as the first few times, but it landed far from the other she had shot. Iloeth sighed and lifted the bow again. Just as she was aiming, she heard footsteps behind her. Thinking it was Sonruil, she went on "Behold, I have barely managed to aim worse than in our last session!"

"Then perhaps we must change your trainer" she heard a familiar voice say, and sensed that he was smiling as he spoke. She sighed inwardly. She had seen little of him lately, and now her heart pounded inside of her as she spun around to see him. When would it stop?

He was looking not at her, but at the aiming post.

"You need to modify your stance. You pull at the string too close beneath the arrow. That is why the arrows fly over your aim."

"You need not trouble yourself my lord, I will manage. Captain Sonruil is a marvellous teacher." She thought she saw a muscle twitch on his face.

"Yet you still aim over your target after five sessions. Perhaps you are...distracted during your lessons?"

"I am indeed distracted. Right in this moment. Because you interrupted me."

_Words as sharp as her daggers._

"Iloeth, this is no jest," he added blankly. "Don't you truly wish to learn that which might save your life?"

She felt taken back to her childhood when her tutor would chastise her for her lack of attention. Why must he make her feel this way? He had no right. He was not her brother, not her comrade, not even part of her race. And he had done enough already. _Your feigned interest does not impress me._

Taking her silence as a truce, Legolas came closer until they were at arm's length.

"Get into your stance."

She surprisingly found herself obeying, although there had been no commanding edge to his tone. The elf was, afterall, said to be the best in the art of archery in the realm, a fact not even she could deny. As he watched her, he drew closer and gently pushed her foot with his, brushing it closer to her other foot.

"Feet should be locked far apart, but not as far."

Then he moved as to stand behind her and pressed his hand against her abdomen before she could protest, her breath leaving her for half a second. She cursed under her breath. His gesture brought her uncomfortably close to him, rousing her insides.

"Muscles should be kept tight here. It helps lock your stance and makes for better aim." He could sense her body tense under his touch and secretly allowed himself to feel a hint of pleasure at the thought.

"Now. Aim and place your fingers lower below the arrow when you pull." Iloeth did her best to comply and sent the arrow shooting. It went the way of the others.

"You need to pull harder," he insisted. Iloeth moved to make more space for herself.

"I am not used to...someone being so_ close"_ she bit out, half hoping he would release her. "I cannot shoot straight like this, please make away."

As she stood close with her back turned to him, her hair was almost brushing his face. Its fragrance made him slightly dizzy.

"You must be able to shoot under any conditions. He looked around the shadowy glade, then almost whispered into her ear "there is no such stillness in the midst of battle." Iloeth felt electrifying sensations shoot through her when she felt his breath on her ear. She tried to wiggle herself free but he only tightened his hold of her slightly.

"Harden your muscles. Good. Now pull on the string and do not hold it long after you aim. Simply release your fingers." She did so, finding that the arrow at least shot into the aiming post this time.

"Better," she could hear him smiling behind her. He took a second to enjoy having her near. She seemed so small and frail, he'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her so close. However Iloeth was beginning to feel too much like a ragdoll in his grasp.

"Let me go," she managed, as she wiggled out of his light embrace.

Legolas did as she wished and now they were facing each other, both more than a little affected by their first physical contact in months. She recognized his stare - the same as from the night before they parted. Iloeth wanted to escape him and this feeling gnawing at her stomach before it took a more powerful hold of her. Without a word she went to quickly gather the weaponry and turned to exit the glade.

"Why do you recoil from me so? I have done nothing to you to deserve it, at least not knowingly," she heard his question shoot behind her. His tone was calm as usual, but she felt a sad, frustrated edge to it. Iloeth interrupted her stride, seemingly thinking of a reply.

"Iloeth..." he began, slowly walking to where she stood "I did not mean to leave you alone then. Would you at least try to believe me? There were circumstances...I know how you must have felt, as I felt it also. My father, he'd noticed I grew deeply fond of you, and I'd been a careless fool. He did this but disobeying him would have meant treason...yet now I wonder at the cost. I always meant to come after you, though I managed later than I had hoped. " _Finally._ He had long wanted to tell her this.

This time the girl spun around, angry.

"Enough lies! At least have respect now, if you did not before. You say these words of wanting me well, caring for me, yet before now here you were, trying to seduce me again!"

"Trying to _seduce_ you?" The elf managed a sad chuckle at her misinterpretation. "Trust me, _mellon-nin_, I was in no position for such a feat."

But she took his mirth as a means of offence, as to mock her uneasiness, his laughter ringing in her ears. Who did he think he was, toying with her this way?

"Prince Legolas Thranduilion, do not presume to get close to me or touch me again. You have done enough to last me a lifetime. Kindly take yourself back to where your... charms will be better received." Having spat out her words, she turned her back on him to stomp away.

By now he'd had enough. He sensed her struggle, but why was she so determined to always antagonize him? To lock him on the outside in spite of them having shared something they both knew was still there, in spite of him having done nothing more than his duty? To always cause them both pain in this rash way? He felt her with his keen senses, knowing she still harbored feelings for him, he'd felt her shiver at his touch.

Thoughts whirling and all his attained elvish calm forgotten, the elf found his feet swiftly taking him towards his pitiless lover. Faster than Iloeth could react, he spun her around to face him, pulling all of her being close, squeezing her into him. She was now desperately trying to remove herself from his embrace but failed as he leaned in and locked her chin with his hand, so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. His now steely gaze froze her. With his other hand he held her to him, locking both her arms behind her back. He then roughly brushed her lips with his finger, ignoring her weak struggle.

"I do not speak lies," he said through gritted teeth. "If you have doubts as to my words, then why not let me _show_ you." His whispered voice was clear but wore a blade's edge; his chest was heaving from her warmth and for the first time Iloeth saw a wild, fierce glimmer in his eyes. She now noticed the striking likeness to his father. She was not afraid, somehow she knew he would never harm her, but she felt overcome - by him and the bellowing desire riling inside of her at his proximity. Tears of frustration appeared in her eyes as the girl felt her body go soft, failing to fight him. He heard her whimper but instead of letting go he was pulling her ever closer into him.

"Not this time..." his voice trailed off as he feverishly covered her mouth with his own, barely giving her air, tasting her hungrily. He let go of her wrists, sensing he was losing himself and not wanting to bruise her. But Iloeth had little use for them... save for wrapping her arms around his neck. _You have won._ She was lost, ere clutching, caressing and pulling at him furiously all at the same time while she felt everything spin about her.

Never letting go, he motioned her towards a most secluded spot in the woods, gently but firmly pressing her back against the thick trunk of a tree. He flanked her with his body as if to prevent her from escaping him while he continued to kiss her wildly._ "I ache for you_," he hushed in his fluid Sindarin, which Iloeth understood in spite of not knowing the words. She only knew him, only felt him; now his hand lifted her leg which she wrapped around him, his nimble fingers tucking away at her clothes, revealing her bare breast. He gasped at the sight of her bare skin, at the feeling of her, and Iloeth felt fiercely aware of how much he truly desired her. He brought his hand under her shirt and it caressed its way along her back, causing her to arch like a strewn bow into him.

"Do you still think me a liar?" he whispered to her in between kisses. Iloeth could find no words to answer as she struggled to suppress a moan when he pinned her and started moving with her body rhythmically. She was now pulling at his hair so hard he felt she would rip it off, and little did he care. His eyes fluttered closed as he covered her mouth with his to muffle her moans when they became louder. He loved to make her feel this way. Staring deeply into her eyes, never stopping his movements, he wished they had come to a sooner realization of how simple it was to be this close. After a long while, they slowed down as their fever turned into steady passion. Her tongue found its way to his earlobe, feeling it softly, insistently as he was moving with her, going faster as she slowly undid him with her kisses. He'd laid her down onto the thick bed of grass, all the while kissing and feeling her lithe body as he did the first time they made love. How magnificent she was, motioning her body and dancing along with his, willing him to never stop.

The day had turned into night when they were laying wrapped into each other, basking in the glow of their lovemaking like children in the sunset, only feeling and thinking of the other. Iloeth tangled herself with him, still brushing gentle kisses wherever they would land, wondering how she had lived without him close for so long.

"I am yours. Whatever is to happen, do you believe me?" She found nothing but truth in his longing stare, and nodded.

"Yet we are two selfish fools...what way is there for this to work?" He bit on her lips in response as punishment for the words.

"_Meleth nin_...there is something else I have to tell you." She was surprised at what he conveyed their union to mean - a bond, a vow of togetherness until the end, their end - as he told her she was not bound by anything unless it was of her choosing. Despite his words she saw it in his eyes, a lovingly destitute plead for her to say _Yes, _to accept him. And there was nothing more she wanted. She played with her fingers through his fine hair, her eyes meeting his darkened gaze, "You already know, you've always known. It can be no other way now. For either of us."

He had not told her of grief, of what would happen eventually due to such a union. He wanted to spare her the worry, the fear that came with the notion that once she'd be gone, he would probably not last much longer either. All they had was now, and he was not about to lose her again.

The coming dawn and all it meant was far away from them.


End file.
